~Once Upon a Skephalo~

~Chapter 11~

"Hold still, Bad, I'm trying to fix your collar," Dream said, adjusting the fabric around Bad's neck for the fourteenth time.

Bad sat in a chair in front of the mirror, all dressed up in the suit that Dream had picked out for him. He honestly despised the outfit; it was itchy and uncomfortable, and he felt ridiculous as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. Dream was fretting over him like a worried mother, trying to make him presentable, but Bad couldn't care less about how he looked. In fact, he would rather stay home than go to some silly party, but he knew Dream wouldn't allow that. So, instead, he let Dream fix his clothes and hair as he stared blankly at his reflection.

"There!" Dream said finally, brushing the last brown lock of hair into place. "You're done. Try not to wrinkle your clothes, okay? We'll leave in just a few minutes, so make sure you're ready to go." And with that, Dream rushed out of the room, letting Bad have the last few minutes before the party to himself.

Bad sagged in the solitude, slouching against his chair as he breathed out a sigh. He knew he was going to loathe this party, and he wished he could escape from it. But of course he couldn't - he was the guest of honor, and all the attention would be on him.

His mind wandered to Skeppy, and he wondered what the diamond man was doing tonight. He couldn't help but be a little jealous as he realized that Skeppy never had to go to parties. If only Bad could be back at the mansion with him now, walking through the garden or baking muffins.

"Bad!" Dream called for him, pulling him back to reality. "We're leaving, come on!"

Bad dragged himself from his chair and walked out to where Dream and George were waiting for him. Then, they left the house, headed for the town square.

~A few hours earlier~

Skeppy was sulking in his room when he heard a knock on his door.

"What do you want?" He muttered, not moving from his spot.

"There's something we need to talk about," Spifey said. "Can you let me in?"

Skeppy grumbled as he walked over to the door and opened it. "Couldn't you  have just unlocked it using magic?" He asked.

"Don't be rude," Spifey said, frowning as he walked into the room.

"I'm literally going to die tonight because of your curse. I think I'm allowed to be rude to you," Skeppy replied, crossing his arms.

"Well, that's exactly what I'm here to talk to you about. There's a lot of important information I need to tell you." Spifey sat down in a chair next to the fireplace. "I don't expect you to understand it all, but it would be in your best interest to trust me."

Skeppy raised an eyebrow. "Okay..."

"First of all, I'm not just some random fairy that decided to curse you. I'm actually your fairy godfather," Spifey said.

A moment passed while Skeppy processed the words. Then he burst out laughing. "Yeah, right, my fairy godfather! Because fairy godparents are supposed to go around cursing their godchildren! It all makes sense now," he joked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Well, that's the next thing... I didn't actually curse you at all." He paused for a moment, searching for the best explanation. "What all do you remember from the night you were cursed?"

"Not much. It was my twelfth birthday party, and I was talking to someone when I suddenly blacked out or something. Next thing I knew, you were there, telling me that I had been cursed with diamond skin." Skeppy leaned against his bedpost, curious. "Is there something else I should remember?"